


Happiness Is

by Vrunka



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:23:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vrunka/pseuds/Vrunka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Jake English, happy endings are an expectation. For Dirk Strider, not so much. After they beat the game, the boys have one last hurdle to happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happiness Is

**Author's Note:**

> Written BEFORE the boyfriends update. We're mining old stuff here, my friends.

For some people, happy endings are a guarantee. The prince will save the princess, the knight will slay the dragon, the queen will outsmart the hobgoblin and they’ll all live happily ever after. Except for the hobgoblin, but that’s tough shit.

For Jake English, happy endings are an expectation. His life in the jungle has been hard, a struggle of adventure that will make his ending all the more sweet. All the more worth it. He has vivid daydreams where he saves the maid and gets his bride and they live happily ever after. He does not ponder what comes after the phrase. There is nothing after as far as he is concerned. Happiness. Forever and even after. For as long as it is. Jake does not like the fairytales his grandmother used to recite that had sad endings. Many of them were sad.

Dirk Strider always liked the sad ones. For him, happy endings are a sham. Something tinsel-bright and fake. Something forced. He reads a lot, in between practicing with his sword and drawing. Roxy sends him transcripts of her mother’s books, links him to sites where he can read all the old classics. He likes The Little Mermaid for its irony. And because it made him cry. Not that he would ever tell anyone that. He ponders extensively the story behind the ever afters. How the Beast gets Beauty, how they live happily for a few months before Beauty can no longer put up with his moping, beautiful visage and runs back to her provincial village. How Rapunzel and her prince raise their twins for bitter years before she throws herself from a tower in their castle because death is better than the harshness of the outside world. Dirk prefers to pretend that the stories end this way. It begets the disappointment that happy and forever aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.  
The first time they meet, Dirk’s blood is on Jake’s hands and Dirk is dead. Dirk is just a head. But Jake kisses him anyway, starts them out on that first step of the journey. Dirk’s reawakened dreamself watches the kiss and realizes, with something akin to nerves that this is their story now, their fairytale. He tries to forget his past inhibitions and remember the way the happy stories go.

Luckily, there is little room for courtship in the game. They are busy doing things. Constantly. Dirk is both frustrated and relieved that further confrontation will be put off. Because really, he already knows Jake did what he did because AR goaded him into it and because Jake is a nice person. Dirk knows it was just a thing. That he shouldn’t get his hopes up.

Because happy isn’t how his story goes.

His hopes get up anyway, even though Dirk pretends they aren’t. Every conversation with Jake, spoken or otherwise, digs Dirk deeper. He is neck-deep in love by the time they manage to finish the game, everybody in god-tier, going nuclear on English’s ass, destroying the Batterwitch. Creating a new universe, born in the image of Alternia and Earth. And everyone is happy and laughing and Dirk is right there with them. Except he isn’t. He’s nervous and confused and anxious and when Jake says, “Should we talk?” Dirk doesn’t know what to say except he’s sorry.

He says it was just a phase. That all the badassary and near-death experiences have gotten him over his crush. He licks his lips and heaps on lie after lie until he feels sick with it. Until he can’t speak anymore. Until he’s so open and raw from all his words that he thinks he might break. Jake doesn’t say much of anything, which is rare and painful, and Dirk pretends like he can’t see the slight hurt in Jake’s eyes. He pretends he imagined it.

He probably did imagine it, he tells himself, on quiet days in their new world, which is more like Earth than he would have guessed. Most of the kids stay near to each other, the trolls too. Dirk is the only one of the humans who wanders. Finds himself a dwelling by the sea. It reminds him of his old house. And of The Little Mermaid. And every morning he wakes up and he contemplates the rolling waves capped with foam and he debates with himself whether today will be the day he kills himself or not.

Roxy comes to visit him often. She is not as cheerful as she had been before the game. It has taken something from her. Left her scarred and tired. She tells him to stop being an asshole and come back to the others. Because no amount of scarring will make her not Roxy. Dirk declines. He asks about Jake and Roxy rolls her eyes and says she’ll tell everyone he says hi.

Dave comes too. He is more informative than Roxy because he does not have the backstory. He tells Dirk that Jake is doing fine, that he is often off adventuring by himself. Looking for something. But no one knows what. The world is an open slate, completely free for their molding. No one is sure the path Jake is carving, but when they do see him, he seems happy enough. Dave asks Dirk a lot of questions. He looks sad at many of Dirk’s answers.  
“What’s wrong?” Dirk asks, finally, watching Dave watch him.

Dave shakes his head. “Nothing I guess. You just aren’t very much like him, is all.”

And Dirk understands. He doesn’t begrudge Dave when Dave leaves. He just watches the sea and wonders if tomorrow he’ll be brave enough to do it. Just jump in and float away. He so longs to end his drawn out parody of an ending, and yet something stops him. Some far off knowing. But that’s stupid. He was not a Seer of anything. Not like Rose or Terezi. But he still feels like he knows that something is coming. Something will happen. And after it does, he can continue with his life. Or rather, the ending of it.

He knows what he was waiting for when, one day, almost a year and a half after their completion of SBURB, Jake shows up on Dirk’s beach.

Distance and time have done nothing to quell Dirk’s feelings. He watches Jake stroll along the sand, confidant and suave and tan and gorgeous, and Dirk is in love all over again. Hopelessly drowned in it. He meets Jake outside, doesn’t know what kind of greeting is expected and is saved from his problem when Jake grabs him in a bear hug. Dirk doesn’t remember Jake being taller than him, but Jake is, and when he tightens his arms and lifts, Dirk’s feet leave the ground.

“I’ve missed you,” Jake says into Dirk’s hair, lips brushing his temple. Jake smells like summer and adventure and happiness and it makes Dirk’s chest ache with longing. And self-pity. Because he’s been so lonely here in his little house by the sea, so fucking lonely and now Jake is here and suddenly Dirk isn’t lonely any more. Even though it’s only been seconds, minutes, Dirk’s happier than he’s been in forever. He knows what it will feel like when things go back to what they were, when Jake leaves again, and he’s desperate not to feel that way.

“I missed you too,” he says when Jake lowers him. He doesn’t have his glasses, he hasn’t worn them in a long time. He has to tilt his head up to look into Jake’s eyes. “Did you get taller on me, English?”

Jake frowns, looks up and down himself like he’d be able to recognize change and says, “Don’t think so. Any chance we can pop inside for this reunion, eh? I’ve been travelling for. Well gosh, for jolly well ever and I’m,” he pauses, grinning. “We need to catch up.”

So they do. And Jake talks and talks and talks. Not in an awkward rambling way, but in a way that makes Dirk feel completely secure and happy. Because Jake is the same old Jake, going on about adventures and monsters and things he’s seen and discovered and lived. This world has given him his happy ending, his one wish. To chart the uncharted. To live, really live, and explore any and everywhere. Dirk interjects very little, is too enrapt in the stories Jake has to tell him, in returning the smiles that are becoming infectious.

“And what about you, old chum? Huh?” Jake asks, after what seems like hours of talking, crossing his arms on the table and balancing his chin on them. “Living the dream or what?”

Dirk wants to lie; the urge is sudden and vicious. He wants to make Jake believe he’s had as happily an ever after as Jake has had. Instead he says, “It’s been, you know. I haven’t seen the others in a while.” This is true, Roxy’s last visit was three months ago at least. She had clearly been trying really hard to keep the olive branch extended, but Dirk’s constant depression and blunt unwillingness to come back had worn her down. Dirk knows she’ll come back eventually. She’s a good friend.

“I think we were all a little confused when you decided to come all the way out here,” Jake confesses. “I mean, this is sort of the bloody middle of nowhere. Believe me. I know. I’ve seen the middle of nowhere, it looks a helluva lot like this.”

Dirk cracks a small insincere smile. Jake grins back, honest as hell. Innocent like he’s always been. The game couldn’t take that from him, just as it couldn’t break Roxy, or Jane. Just as it couldn’t fix Dirk. Dirk sighs without meaning to, looks away from Jake and out the window to the sea. Jake asks him what’s wrong.

“Nothing.” Dirk says, biting his tongue. Killing himself with his words.

Jake frowns, kicks Dirk lightly under the table. “I can tell when you’re lying, you dumb blonde idiot.”

Dirk sighs again, kicks Jake back, just a touch harder.

And maybe that was the wrong thing to do, or maybe it was just the catalyst they needed because the next thing Dirk knows is he’s being dragged out of his chair by Jake’s hands. Dirk struggles. Twists his wrist out of Jake’s grip and punches out. Tangles their legs and sends them both sprawling. Unfortunately for Dirk, Jake lands on top, pins Dirk’s arms above his head. There is nothing weak about the way Dirk wriggles in Jake’s grip, his fight borne from desperation and some lingering sense of pride. Jake doesn’t seem to give a fuck. He’s stronger than Dirk, years of adventuring in the jungle, in this new world, have given him the edge. When Dirk finally gives up and sags under Jake’s weight, he is the only one out of breath but they are both sweating.

“Will you just fucking tell me what’s been wrong with you?” Jake asks, his knees pressing into Dirk’s sides.

Dirk shakes his head, wishes he could free his arm and pummel Jake’s stupid, understanding face at the same time that he wants to kiss Jake, curl up in the unconditional affection he’s being shown. “I can’t tell you,” he says, whispers more than anything else. Breathes into the space between them. “Not you.”

Jake lets him go. Sits back on his heels and looks stricken. “I thought we were.” He huffs a sigh, interrupting himself. “We’re supposed to be best mates, aren’t we? Bros? I didn’t think a year would change that.”

“It didn’t change it.” Dirk says, sitting up. His shoulder aches dully, as does his waist, where Jake’s knee was jammed. He will probably bruise. This is not an upsetting thought. “We’re still best friends."

“Fuck your bullshit, Strider.”

“Fuck you, English.” But Dirk can’t summon the anger he wants behind the words. He sounds sulkier than he intends. Jake is pissed enough for the both of them; his face is ugly with anger. Only his eyes betray his hurt. And this time Dirk knows he isn’t imagining it. “Why’d you come here?” he asks, when it is clear that Jake is not leaving even though he is bleeding out emotion on Dirk’s kitchen floor.

“You should fucking well know very well why I fucking came here,” Jake says, his eyes are narrowed, squinting. His glasses fell off in the scrape; Dirk can see them, half-hidden under the stove. He fishes them out and hands them over. Without even thinking, Jake responds with a thank you, and then he seems to realize he’s still mad and his face falls back into a frown. “I’m supposed to be the oblivious one. Roxy has told me this many times.”

“Dave said you were looking for something.” Dirk says, studying his hands.

“I suppose I was.” Jake swallows, scoots closer. “I didn’t find it. In case you were wondering. Even with all my searching,” he holds his arms out, palms up, “empty handed. The whole thing was codswallop. An absolute bully waste of time. The stories got it all wrong.”

“Got what wrong?” Dirk asks, even though he feels like he knows.

“Happy endings.” Jake says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“You’re full of shit.”

“Pardon?”

“I said you’re full of shit. Ten minutes ago, all you could talk about was how much fun you’d had on your adventures. Don’t fuck with me just because you feel,” Dirk bites down on his tongue, stops himself before his mouth can run away with his words. “Don’t lie for me. I don’t. Don’t belittle your experiences because you feel some obligation to reciprocate some. Some childish crush. I’ve told you before, English, I’m over it. No harm, no foul.”

Jake is on him again before the words are even fully out of his mouth. Pinning him to the tile. He has a better angle this time, gets both of Dirk’s wrists in one hand and holds Dirk’s chin with the other. And then he is kissing him.

Dirk doesn’t know what to do. His brain can’t compute what’s happening fast enough. He leans into Jake’s touch, so contact starved he can’t even pretend that he is trying to get away this time and arches his back to respond to the kiss. Pressing his lips hard to Jake’s. Opening his mouth and groaning encouragement. The kiss is sloppy, new and awkward, too full of emotion and inexperience to be anything more than rough. But Dirk doesn’t care. He feeds off the raw energy that Jake is providing, opens his legs without thinking and brackets Jake’s body. No longer pushing away, but drawing in.

He doesn’t even realize that Jake has freed his wrists until he feels Jake’s hands on his waist, lifting his hips off the floor to lock their bodies closer. And fuck. Jesus fucking Christ on a bike, Dirk had never dared to actually dream this could happen. Had never thought they would be on the floor, in the kitchen of a house in a world they had helped to create and that Jake would be the aggressor, the one to push himself on Dirk.

All thoughts of escape, for the moment, are dropped to the wayside.

Dirk grips Jake’s hair with one hand, tangles his fingers in the strands and uses that grip to control the kiss, to slow it down, draw it out. He nips at Jake’s lips, teasing little bites and Jake moans quietly. Breaks the kiss to pant wetly against Dirk’s mouth. His lips are pink and swollen. Dirk gives him a second to recover before he is wiggling impatiently under him. For half a second, it looks like Jake might flee, then he lowers his lips to Dirk’s again.

The kiss is slower now, gentle around the edges. Dirk tilts his head, sighing when Jake moves their hips together again. And it’s nice and it’s great but it isn’t quite enough.

“I want you to fuck me,” Dirk whispers when their lips part again, enjoying the way Jake shivers at the words, huffing a sigh into Dirk’s sweat-dampened hair.

When he meets Dirk’s gaze, his eyes are open and wide and innocent, pupils blown wide, swallowing the green of his irises. “Are you sure?”

The world didn’t come pre-stocked with lube and condoms, Dirk knows, but at the same time, it’s Jake. He’s always been weak where Jake was concerned. “Just be careful,” he says, cupping Jake’s cheek with his hand. The pulse point in his thumb is working overtime with the beating of his heart, he is sure Jake can feel it.

“I fucking love you,” Jake says. And Dirk believes him. Jake’s hands are shaking slightly as he pulls the two of them up. Dirk leans into him, lets Jake’s sturdiness be enough for the both of them. He lifts his head to kiss Jake slow and thorough once they’re vertical.

“I love you too.”

“I know. I’ve. I can always tell when you’re lying,” Jake repeats, blushing just a little. Jumpy and young-looking with his nerves. Dirk wants to kiss that innocence away, wants to treasure it forever, keep some part of it living under his tongue, wrapped up in his chest.

Dirk’s room in this world is not like his room in the old one. There is less stuff. Fewer memories. No Little Cal. Dirk sheds his clothes with a confidence he doesn’t really feel, watches as Jake does the same. Everything is careful and soft and surreal.

Until Jake touches him again. And then it is about the pull and the heat, the sense of right and belonging and Dirk had never particularly figured it would be like this. That it could mean anything beyond physicality. But he can taste Jake’s heartbeat in his lips, can feel it under his palms, and when Jake comes, unexpectedly, biting out something that sounds like Dirk’s name, it couldn’t be more perfect.

Jake blushes through his apology--scarlet-cheeked under his tan--but Dirk doesn’t care, just smiles and chuckles as he kisses Jake’s hair. Settles for kissing until Jake gets a second wind. Dirk fights back tears when Jake pushes in, nearly breaks the bones in Jake’s hand with how hard he squeezes. And Jake is slow and gentle and right and somehow, despite the blunt pain, Dirk manages to feel some pleasure. Not a fully physical pleasure, though he is sure with time and practice that will work out, but an emotional wholeness.

Jake moves slowly, like a prayer. His eyebrows are low, pinched together in concentration and Dirk loves him for that. For this. For everything. His love flutters like a bird in the cavity of his chest, competing with his heartbeat until every ounce of pain he feels becomes love. Until he is distanced from everything in it.

They do not last long after that. They are teenagers, inexperienced and barely cusping maturity. They make an absolute mess.

Jake holds Dirk, when they’ve finished, hugs him tight with an arm around Dirk’s middle and his lips pressed to the back of Dirk’s neck. Dirk wonders when the situation will curdle, when Jake will come to the realization of what has happened. What he has done. Dirk wonders when the regret will set in. And he thinks about escape again.

Outside his bedroom window, the sea rolls, endless and beckoning.

Jake is breathing in time with it. Sleeping. Dirk can’t help but smile.

He gets up without waking Jake, ignores the stiffness he feels whenever he moves his hips, pads outside and stands with his feet in the wet sand, where the sea kisses the edge of the earth. He thinks maybe it’s better this way. Coming full circle. He stands there for twenty minutes, maybe longer. His skin is warmed from the touch of the sun. There is a bruise on the inside of his knee, perfect finger-shaped marks.

“What the blazes are you doing out here?” Jakes asks.

Dirk had not heard him coming, but he doesn’t flinch. He just narrows his eyes and rolls his shoulders.

“Are you going to leave me?” Jakes asks. “After that?” he pauses. Dirk can hear the nervous pitch in Jake’s voice when he adds, “Because of that?” The sea crashes to shore, echoing the question in its own language.

“No. Not,” Dirk sighs. “Not because of that.”

“Then why?”

Dirk swallows. He doesn’t know how to answer. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be quite and lonely. The ocean laps at his ankles. A silent bird wheels overhead. A bead of sweat rolls down his spine. “I don’t know how to give you a happy ending.” He says finally.

“Why would I care about that?” Jakes asks, and he actually sounds earnest, confused. “They’re not really all they’re cracked up to be. I told you. I’ve tried it. We got here and I. Well, I thought I had everything. Jolly well nearly did. I don’t mean to sound like a Disney film here, Dirk, but I’ve learned a lot in a year. And. I was looking for something, in all that travelling. Searching and searching.”

Dirk rolls his eyes, looks over at Jake. “But you realized you already had me?”

Jake blushes, rubs the back of his head with a small grin. “Am I that predictable?”

“No,” Dirk says. “I just know this story already.”

“Okay then.” Jake looks down, takes a step forward and brushes his fingers over Dirk’s knuckles. “Can we go inside now? You’re naked.”

Dirk wants to say no. A treacherous little part of him still wants to throw himself into the sea. Instead he loops his fingers in Jake’s, presses their palms together. “You really don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I’ll be okay.

“I can’t lose you,” Dirk says, not looking at Jake, still studying the ocean as if he’s speaking to it. “I can’t go back to being lonely again.”

Jake squeezes their hands together, reassuring and steady. As he’s always been. Constant. “I know, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

And there, at the edge of the sea on the beach of a world they helped to create, Dirk believes him. And he dares to hope that maybe, just maybe, he can finally live happily.

Forever.

And even after.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. Hope you enjoyed it, this is my first post here and my first homestuck fic post so I'm a little nervous. Feedback is always nice.


End file.
